Finale
by Bustahead
Summary: Yaoi. Final DanteReiko. Tearjerker maybe. Do not flame or read if you hate yaoi, with slight lemon and a lot of angst. You have been warned.


_Revenge._

_Tell me, what is it?_

_Do you find joy in it_

_Or an endless sorrow?_

_Is it really considered an emotion?_

_Revenge is nothing_

_But a herald of death._

_Revenge is a battle_

_Ending in loneliness_

_And despair._

**Finale**

Life is so strange. We try to understand what our purpose is on Earth, why we are here, what we are meant to do. It is only in death that we realize what we have achieved and have not achieved. When I got out of that coffin, and when I bled Dante to death, it was his demise that made me realize what exactly my purpose is, what exactly I am here for. I am nothing but an instrument of death, a tool that kills, murders, causes sorrow and suffering. I am something which is hideous, evil. I wish I was back in that coffin. The torture that Nahema inflicted upon me was nothing compared to the torture I feel now.

I killed him. I killed the one who I had considered as a friend. He was one of the first people to accept me for who I am and what I was, and I laid that all to waste by betraying him, and murdering him ruthlessly. Why am I cursed like this? Why is it that whatever I do, it always backfires upon me, and makes me feel worse than before? It is almost as though I am jumping from obstacle to obstacle, hoping to find happiness and a sense of deliverance each time, but every time I fall short, and fail miserably.

Perhaps it is time that I stop deluding myself, and stop trying to hold the vain belief that somewhere out there, I will find some sort of contentment. Perhaps it is time that I resign myself to the fact that I am to lead a life of misery, where all that I do is turned to rot and ash before my eyes.

Even when I try to do well, and try to comfort others, it seems to backfire. Why? What is it about me that is so awful? I feel so alone, as though no one understands me anymore. There used to be someone who did, but he's gone now, and I have no one to blame but myself. Because of my own dark thoughts of revenge I got what I wanted, and I am cursing it.

I will never forget the night I returned to the agency. I will never ever forget that night; when Trish's eyes fell upon me, her eyes went wide with shock and she stared at me as though I were some sort of monster. I felt like one already, but seeing my feelings reflected upon her face seemed to show me that I had been right without a doubt. It was that night that what little hope I had left of retaining my humanity vanished. I felt awful, Trish looked terrified of me, and I felt the world turn dark before my eyes and my blood turn to ice.

The worst was trying to tell her what had happened, that Dante, the one she loved like a brother or a son was never going to come back to her. She refused to believe me, and I was forced to watch helplessly as she cried herself to sleep, angry and confused, scared and livid with rage. I can understand why she felt the way she did. Who was I to come into her home and deliver the sad tidings that Dante was no more? Who was I to tell her that he would never come back when I had seemed to have come back from the dead myself?

My presence kept hope alive for her. If I could return to her, so could Dante. She refused to believe that just as I had come to the agency, she had lost Dante. I remember thinking to myself that it was like some sort of omen, that neither one of us could survive while the other was alive. Immediately, I pushed the thought to the back of my mind; that was utter nonsense. Dante and I had both been living before without any problems. It was only until recently that we had been at each other's throats.

When I tried to tell Trish of the news of Dante's death and when she gave me that wild look, her eyes went wide with shock and she started to back away from me. She shook her head several times, as though trying to shake the words out of her ears. She was unwilling to believe, and I don't blame her. I too didn't want to believe the awful crime I had committed. I remember that I tried to move towards her, to hold her tightly and to tell her that everything was going to be okay somehow. I had conveniently left out a few details while trying to tell her. I hadn't told her that the one who had hurt him was I. I couldn't bear the shame of my actions and it showed that day. I felt that if I didn't tell anyone that I was guilty that somehow I would be able to forget. I felt that if I repeated a lie to myself over and over I would somehow begin to believe it myself and that the awful feeling that I was carrying something heavy in my stomach would begin to vanish. I should have known better than to think such a foolish thing. I refused to add the deed to my list of sins. I kept telling myself that Dante had it coming, that he should have known better, that he had brought it all on himself.

But the more I saw Trish suffering without Dante, the worst I felt, and the more I realised that I was also at fault, and eventually, I began to believe that it was my fault entirely. The separate entity that was my vampire had incited Dante onto greater actions, and I had failed in trying to control it. Dante couldn't help being encouraged when I had been too weak to stop my vampire. I began to realise that by killing Dante, I was also killing my only other remaining friend.

She spent days afterwards, just curled up in bed, crying, always crying, her health becoming worse and worse as the days without Dante passed. I stayed out of a sense of duty. I knew how close Dante and Trish were, and I wanted to take care of her the way Dante would have done. I wanted to comfort her somehow, but I did not know how. Trish still wasn't able to fully believe that I was alive. To her, I was like a ghost that was back from the dead, something that was unreal, or like a nightmare. I don't blame her for thinking that either. I was scared of myself. When she first saw me, she had screamed with shock and had flung herself at me with joy. But then later the realisation of what she was actually seeing struck home, and she became fearful and wary, as though afraid that I was a demon who was trying to lull her into a false sense of security.

Days turned into weeks, which in turn became months. Trish had stopped crying; all the tears in her body had appeared to have been used up. Dante was right when he had said that she was not fully demon. There was some human in her, and whenever I saw her cry, I could always hear Dante's voice in my head. "Devils never cry…". I always thought he was wrong about that. I shed tears for him too when I had realized what I had done. And the most ironic thing, is that I am less than a devil. I am worse.

When Trish stopped crying, I had mixed emotions. On one hand, I was relieved that she had finally stopped crying. On the other hand, I grew concerned when I realized it was probably because she no longer had the energy to cry. Even worse was the fact that she wasn't talking either. Her eyes held a dead hollow look to them, her looks that were once beautiful became unkempt and uncontrolled. She had turned into something like a zombie. I was scared for her. I refused to leave the house knowing her condition. All I could do was guess at her feelings. I even went as far as to hide all the kitchen knives in a pointless and pathetic move. If the thought of suicide ever occurred to Trish, then she could have easily slit her wrist or impale herself on a sword that Dante kept lying around or she could have just as simply gained possession of one of Dante's many guns and ended her life then and there. Of course, at the time, the thought hadn't occurred to me that this method would simply fail, just as it had done for me that day.

Luckily, it seemed as though she had no desire to attempt such a thing and for this I was grateful. She just seemed incapable of living properly without Dante. Soon I found myself doing more and more for her; from a friend I became a brother, from a brother I became a father. It was a terrible time. Trish would stare straight ahead of her, a look of wounded disbelief firmly plastered on her face. Soon it got to the point where I had to force her to eat and drink, order her to shower, tuck her into bed, comfort her when she had nightmares. In the morning, the awful cycle would begin again. I became exhausted and mentally weak and strained though I continued to struggle on and do my very best for Trish. I refused to give up because I felt that if I did, Trish's health would probably deteriorate resulting in her death. It was a dumb thing to think, hadn't I already realized that Trish's body was still partly demonic and that it wouldn't let her die so easily through natural causes? Yet it didn't stop me from sometimes thinking that it would be kinder to let her die, so then she would no longer have to suffer her inner torment. Then I would scream at myself, tell myself that I was a terrible monster, something that was unfit to live, the lowest of the low. I cried at several points; angry, frustrated, exhausted, drained and scared. Trish walked into the room once when I was experiencing this whirlwind of turbulent emotions. She stared at me with no expression. I can only wonder to this day what she saw. Blood shot hazel eyes, a pale face, dishevelled hair. Whatever it was she saw, it made her eyes unglazed and it made her reach out to me for the first time since I came back from Nahema's lair. She hugged me tightly, brushed my hair from my eyes and soothed me like a mother. After that day, I didn't cry again. After that day, we began to live again.

We seemed to give each other strength, strength and comfort that I desperately craved for. But whenever Trish smiled at me or hugged me, I felt worse. So many times I felt the words almost tumble from my lips, but I kept myself in check.

Devil May Cry continued to run as usual. Trish no longer felt strained over the bills; I had made sure of that. I was more than happy to pay the bills for her, a small token, a small insignificant apology for stealing her best friend's life. It helped for a little while, but only for a small tiny moment when compared to the amount of guilt I felt at all other times. When the guilt returned, it came back with double the force. I felt like crying and telling her everything, and begging for forgiveness; I'm a liar, Trish! It was me! I did all this! I killed him! I hurt you! I destroyed everything for you!

I told myself to be strong, that everything would smooth over, that time would heal all wounds. Then the day came when I saw Trish standing by the window, just staring out of it. Her cobalt blue eyes shone with grim determination, the line of her jaw was fixed in an expression of resolution. I asked her what she was doing, and she told me she was waiting. I asked her what she was waiting for, and her reply turned me to ice.

* * *

'Dante.'

* * *

I began to truly know the meaning of fear at that point. The overpowering taste of dread always seemed to be in my mouth, cloying everything. I became paranoid to the point that I actually held the childish belief that one could smell my terror on my breath. I feared that he would return; I'd have nightmares that I hadn't done the job properly, and that he'd come back and kill me. Sometimes I'd fear what would happen if Trish ever found out the truth of my heinous crime and what would happen if she suddenly realized that Dante never ever was going to come back. Would she become the wreck that refused to eat? Would she finally succumb to her depression and try to do what I did and attempt suicide? Such thoughts were unbearable. I spent my time keeping myself busy, throwing myself into my work to keep such thoughts at bay, so then I could run away from my lies and my fears.

Time passed and Trish spent less and less time at the window. Time passed and I could feel my powers becoming stronger and stronger. I was at once scared yet becoming increasingly relaxed; scared because I had no clue what it was that was causing my powers to start acting up. I was scared that perhaps my vampire would spiral completely out of control, just as it had done with Dante, and this time Trish could be the target. I was also relaxed, because as more time passed, the more likely it seemed that Dante was dead, and that he wouldn't come back.

I should have known better.

He came.

* * *

He slammed the door open and stomped into the house, his boots thumping noisily on the wooden floor. I could only watch in terror as Trish threw herself at him, smiling from ear to ear, laughing with delight, hugging him tightly, lovingly.

'You came back! You came back!' she cried. I remember the growing feeling of dread as Dante looked up from the top of her head and slowly but surely looked up and saw me. His eyes flared crimson momentarily.

'Looks like I'm not the only one who came back,' he murmured. I licked at dry lips but I made no sound; I just stood there like a rabbit caught in the headlights. He smiled at me, but it was far from friendly. It promised nothing but pain, endless pain and bloodshed. I felt weak as soon as I saw that dangerous smirk of his and I wanted to run away, as far and as fast as I could. Trish smiled and pulled away from him, a hand on each cheek. He smiled at her, a true smile, and I could see the tenderness in his eyes.

'Reiko came back! He told me you were dead and he stayed with me. He also loaned me some money so then I could pay the bills and he's been helping me on each job that I get! I knew you'd come back! I just knew it! If he came back, then surely you could too! And I was right!' She laughed again, tears rolling down her face as she hugged him tightly. Dante smiled.

'Of course I'd come back. You put the yellow orb in my coat, remember?' Trish pulled away from him and looked confused.

'What yellow orb?' I watched as puzzlement bruised Dante's features and quickly looked away when his eyes fell upon me again.

'There was a yellow orb…in my coat…wasn't there?' He said slowly. 'You must have put it in, right? Trish?' He stared with growing bewilderment as Trish shook her head. You could see his confusion rising in his eyes, the way his lips were hitched up at one corner, frozen there by surprise.

'So…' he faltered, looking unsure, his eyes serious and baffled. Trish's face had turned hard, and her eyes glimmered like twin blue fires in her face. I saw as Dante noted her expression and frowned at its unfamiliarity. I watched as though in a nightmare as he turned angry suspicious eyes upon me, asking me silently what I had dome to her, whether I had her under some form of mind control, whether I was the one who was responsible for her unprecedented behaviour. I swallowed hard and looked away, too ashamed of myself and of my past actions to meet his eyes. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he scowled at my reaction and then turned back to Trish.

'So you didn't put in a yellow orb?'

'No.'

'You sure?'

'As certain as I know that you are a Sparda.'

'I see…' His face fell, and he looked as though he had been somewhat wounded. His eyes lit up momentarily with the sudden light of realization and understanding before a look of intense sorrow passed over his face.

'Trish…' he whispered. 'I'm so sorry…' His voice sounded hoarse, as though he had laryngitis. Trish's eyes were like twin orbs of stone; solid and entirely unmoveable. I knew exactly what Dante was apologizing for.

'I'm not hurt and I was never worried,' she said quickly, tossing her hair haughtily. 'Why should I be? You never ring up anyway when you go on a two-long-month mission. Why should I have expected anything different this time?' Her tone of voice, so caustic and filled with bitterness reminded me strikingly of a mother who feels that her son in an ungrateful wretch. Dante sighed softly and opened his mouth to speak, as though to explain. But Trish beat him to it. 'Don't bother. All that matters is that you're back…Reiko told me you had died but I was certain he'd got it wrong. I was right, wasn't I? I was never ever worried.' She was lying blatantly, and she knew that I knew she was. At the same time, she knew that I would never give her away even though I was puzzled as to why Trish was lying to him. At that point, I felt that it didn't really matter anymore. I had more important things to worry about. Like keeping my life.

He looked from me then to Trish and then to me again but said nothing. Instead, he walked past us both, noted how I stiffened with fear as he passed me, smirked, and then walked into his bedroom. I had looked towards Trish and I spoke the words that had been on my mind for countless days, ever since I had seen Trish standing by that window.

'I should go.'

'Reiko?' She was frowning at me, and she looked confused, as though I had just kicked her in the shins for no reason.

'Dante's come back now.'

'But you've…been staying here for so long, even before Dante's mission. What's wrong?' She looked at me with a look in her eyes that was identical to a small child who's just been told that her security blanket is no longer there. I remember how sick with worry I felt, and how I couldn't bring myself to tell her even when I had been granted the opportunity to do so.

'Trish…' I had whispered weakly.

'What's wrong?' She stared at me with a type of ferocity I had never seen in her before. She stared at me piercingly, demandingly, determined to find out what it was that I was hiding. I remained mute, unsure as to what to do, and what to say. At last, I sighed.

'Fine. I'll stay.' Trish continued to watch me intently before smiling and turning from me.

'Good. I'm going to go to bed.'

'Goodnight,' I said softly, watching her. She smiled at me again before closing her bedroom door shut. I immediately began to plan my escape.

* * *

It was late at night and Dante and Trish both hadn't exited from their rooms. I assumed them to be fast asleep. I had my few possessions packed, I had my staff over my shoulder, and I actually had my hand on the door handle when I was suddenly frozen with fear.

'Leaving so soon?' I heard the familiar voice behind me but it held no warmth, just coldness. I turned around quickly, staring at him nervously.

'Dante…' I said softly, pleadingly. My back was against the door, I had nowhere else to run. I was trapped. 'Dante…please…I-I wasn't in my right mind and I never meant to hurt you…I really wasn't in my right mind!' I cursed inwardly. Excuses, pathetic feeble excuses, which sound even weaker when spoken out loud. But the worst thing was that it was all true. My voice cracked at that point, and I swallowed hard, determined to stop myself from trembling. I don't know why I bothered to try and fight my way out of it. I could tell just by looking at Dante's face that it had been pointless from the start, that no matter what I said to him, whether I spoke lie or truth he wasn't going to listen to me. The look he gave me, the murderous gleam that was in his eyes scared me. I had seen that look before. It usually came before he went in for the kill, as he bathed in the blood of a demon he had freshly killed. I also saw it that day when I was finally forced to try and make an attempt on my life.

Dante leant in towards me, placing his arms on either side of me, pinning me against the wall. My trembling stopped abruptly as I felt a wave of sudden hate and rage overtake me. He chucked softly, as though sensing it, and ran a hand down the side of my face. I knew then what was happening. Dante had been lost yet again. I was up against his demon and it was trying to call my vampire out to play.

'Stop it…' I hissed. Even as I said that though, I could feel my vampire rising to the call, blocking my vision, holding me prisoner. All too soon I knew that I was being possessed. I struggled against it, against Dante's body before turning limp and sinking to the ground, sliding against the wall as I did so. My shivering started again, but it was not from fear, but because of the aura that was emanating from the demon hunter as he stood over me, smirking.

It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I closed my eyes, and I could envision the aura being like a purple mist. It was warm and tender, promising of something sweet and pleasurable. It wrapped around me like some kind of blanket, ensnaring me so I could not break free. I groaned softly, and opened my eyes and watched as Dante leaned in towards me, helping me to my feet.

It was at that point that his demon succeeded in calling my vampire, and before I knew what was happening, I was lost.

Being possessed by one's own entity is one of the most confusing feelings I have ever felt. I felt like how an insect must feel when it's being slowly wrapped in a spider's web. I felt cocooned, as though I'd been wrapped away and bundled to one side of my mind. All I could do now was watch and experience sensations from behind the veil of a half-sleep. I could still see through my own eyes, I could still think and feel but I had no control over my actions. The vampire had that, and in this situation, that was all that it needed. It didn't care whether I wanted this or not, it didn't care what I thought about the matter. It had my body and it was going to do whatever it damn well pleased.

Dante's lips touched against mine, sending shocks racing through me. If I had had my control, I would have run as far as my feet could take me. I felt sick to my stomach, and I was unable to do a thing about it. The vampire felt my anger and my burning resentment, and then decided that it was going to rid me the luxury of retaining my sight. Soon I was blind, unable to see what was happening.

More shocks raced through me as Dante continued to kiss me. I knew without a doubt that the vampire was taking great pleasure in responding to him. I felt something warm envelop me, and I heard a soft chuckle, which could almost be described as tender, come close to my ear. I found myself reluctantly agreeing that this felt…_nice_. Then I reminded myself what was going on, and who I was with and I felt repulsed. The vampire had done me a kindness in its cruel intentions. By doing away with my sight temporarily, it had given me the strength to live through this, and try and forget who I was with, and who exactly was doing these things to me.

He continued to hold me in his arms and I felt my head resting against his chest, and we stood there, like two lovers who had been reunited after a long time. Which was ironic considering I had killed him and now he probably wanted to kill me. I felt his lips moving against my neck, and I heard my vampire moan in approval before nipping playfully at his ear. I think it was at that point that Dante's demon decided that enough was enough, that he wanted to do something more.

If I had my control, I would have tried to pull away, but as it was I was dragged into his bedroom and pinned down onto his bed. He kissed me over and over, and I was disgusted to hear my vampire thoroughly enjoying every second of it. I heard Dante moan close to my ear and then fell into a blissful darkness. It appeared as though my vampire didn't want my reluctance and general frigidity to "spoil" the mood.

I remained unaware for a while and I just rested, wondering why it was that I always ended up losing my control to my entity whenever it chanced to rise. Then I wondered why it was that I had been losing control so often. This had never happened before, never. Though my powers had strengthened before like this, allowing me to become more powerful, I had never actually ended up having to fight for my body's control. So why did I have to this time? My awareness began to grow again as my vampire decided it would be fun to torture me by relinquishing its control.

Pleasure sparked though me, delicately interlaced with pain. I opened my eyes, and saw Dante's face looming over mine. He was panting and rocking over me. It was only then that I realised that my breath was being forced from me in harsh panting gasps, that I realised what exactly the pleasure was. I groaned and tried to struggle against him, to get him to stop but he pinned my wrists over my head and continued. At last, a powerful surge rippled through me, forcing me to arch my hips with pleasure, forcing my voice to escape in the form of a cry. I struggled again against him before feeling him freeze against me, feeling that familiar sensation as Dante reached his peak. Then the vampire took over again, and I gave myself up to the darkness, praying I would never wake.

* * *

I woke up first the next morning, to find myself curled onto my side, my hands clenched into fists and with Dante hugging my body to him, spooning himself to me. I took a deep shaky breath and tried to calm myself, telling myself that it wasn't Dante's fault, telling myself that he hadn't meant to, that he had been unaware. Then I felt Dante stir against me and I turned my head, to watch him as he slowly raised his face to look down at me. His eyes fell upon my naked body and then his own. His face clouded over as he put two and two together.

'Oh fuck…' he groaned. 'Again?' He looked towards me, angry and confused. I sighed wearily and slowly sat up in bed, looking around for my clothes, wondering where the demon and the vampire had thrown them during the night before.

'Again,' I confirmed. He groaned, a low anguished noise.

'This has got to stop.'

'I couldn't agree more,' I replied, trying to keep my tone as polite as possible. 'Have you an idea how, by any chance?' I was expecting him to shake his head, and I was not disappointed. He sighed softly.

'It's not for lack of trying though…why do you think I took so long getting back?'

'What happened anyway? I killed you. How is it that you're still alive?' But he looked just as confused as I felt.

'I don't know,' he said simply. 'I thought Trish had put a yellow orb in my coat, but when I asked, she knew nothing about it.'

'Perhaps it was your demon.'

'If so, then it's a good liar. It told me it didn't know how I was alive either.'

'Perhaps it was a natural mechanism. Like the one my vampire has. It won't let me die, Dante. I tried already, remember? Maybe your demon did the same, but because it never really had to before it wasn't entirely sure what happened or something?' It sounded weak, even to me but hey, there had to be some sort of explanation. A light seemed to shine in Dante's eyes.

'I remember one time…' he said slowly. 'I'd had a fight with Vergil. We always used to spar with each other, but then I lost my hold on my sword and Vergil stabbed me through the chest. I usually survive through being impaled…' Yes, that was certainly true, I had thought to myself. Alastor for one always took great pains to constantly try and kill him. The sword still hasn't managed yet. I've always wondered whether that was some sort of inside joke or whether it was serious. My attention snapped back as Dante continued. 'Just as I'd been about to get up, Vergil turned around right at the last minute and ran me through with his sword. I thought I was a goner. I don't know how long it was that I laid there, but something kept me from dying that time too.'

I remember that I sighed at that point, and then lay back into bed. Dante automatically curled up against me, looking somewhat depressed. I remember how I had debated whether to shove him away or whether I should just let him rest. I decided to let him stay where he was. After all, he had no longer seemed dangerous. I had misgivings though, that maybe such a decision would encourage him, but I needn't have worried. After a while, he moved away from me, relocated his clothes and started to dress.

'Something has got to be done, Reiko. This has got to stop,' he said again. I nodded wearily.

'You mentioned that you took a long time coming back. What were you up to?'

'Trying to find a cure. Think about it. We've both gotten stronger at the same time and we're both losing control. I think that something triggered it, rather than it being something to do with us personally.' He began to pace, as though it helped him get his thoughts arranged in a coherent order. I continued to rest in bed, watching him tiredly, feeling drained by the exploits from the night before. I thought about Dante's words before shaking my head.

'I have never heard of any such thing. As far as I know, something doesn't suddenly trigger your powers and make you more powerful. The only time something triggered your powers was your rage, when you were fighting against Vergil. After that though, there has been no trigger for you. If it is the case though, that something's triggered it, then why? Who would want to make the powerful son of Sparda even more unstoppable?'

'And who would want a legend to gain an increase in strength?'

'Exactly. They would have nothing to gain.' I chose to ignore the reference to myself. I'm no legend. Dante sighed before looking disappointed. I saw the flurry of emotions that passed over his face. Rage, sorrow, frustration, despair. Rage at feeling so helpless, frustration at not being able to see a clear way out of this, sorrow at knowing that his demon was becoming uncontrollable and despair because he knew that the future seemed miserable. I sighed softly.

'Dante. Stop pacing. You're making me tired just watching you. Just sit down here and relax, okay?' He looked towards me warily, taken by surprise. I couldn't blame him for reacting in such a manner, I felt surprised too. I was the one who despised myself and this situation. I was the one who abhorred him even coming close to me. So why had I invited him to sit by me?

Suddenly, I was aware of my nakedness again and I began to feel vulnerable. I needn't have feared, by this time Dante had seen me unclothed many times before. I had somehow become apathetic and I knew that this was a dangerous situation to be in. Any small move could send me tipping over the edge, could cause me to lose my footing on this tightrope on which I was precariously balanced.

I felt the mattress shift as Dante's weight sank onto the bed. I could feel the heat emanating from his body and I found myself basking in it, enjoying it. I stopped myself at that point, angry, irritated as well as afraid. I was afraid of myself but I was more afraid of him. He had wanted to kill me or at the very least make me scream with pain only the night before. Yet here we were, talking calmly in a composed manner, murderer and victim, rapist and abused. I felt the hysterical urgent need to laugh but I held myself in check. This was not the time to lose my mind again.

'Why don't you want to kill me anymore?' I asked him suddenly, before I even had time to register that the words were coming out of my mouth. I felt Dante's arms slowly wrap around me and hug me close. I could feel his chest against my back, I could feel his warmth through his layer of clothing that separated us. I could feel his heart thumping inside him. I could also feel the power in his arms, and the knowledge that this same power coursed through the whole of his body. I heard his voice sound close to my ear.

'Because when I woke up this morning, and saw what had happened, I knew it wasn't solely your fault. We're both to blame. I pushed you into it.'

'Is that really true?'

'Yes.'

'There's no hostility?'

'You sound disappointed.' I was. I felt that I needed some form of punishment, something more than the events that had transpired the night before. 'So…what do we do, Reiko? What do we do?'

'I don't know, Dante. I just don't know…' I felt ridiculous. Why was Dante asking me? I was in the same mess, I was in the same predicament. I had no answers. If I had done, then I would have acted sooner, I would have done something as quickly as possible.

'Our powers are growing…' Dante murmured, repeating what we both already knew. Suddenly, a burst of knowledge made itself felt. I was a fool not to have thought of this before.

'Our entities are feeding off each other. They revel in the other's power.'

'And they will continue to do so…'

'Unless I leave,' I whispered. His breathing seemed to stop for a split second and I felt him shift uncomfortably against me. I turned so then I was on my other side, facing him. 'Don't frown at me like that…' I said. This only caused the expression on his face to deepen. I sighed softly. 'Dante. You and I, we're very similar. But you and I, we're losing control and we'll continue to do so if us two are together. My vampirism is coming to the fore more than ever and it is because of your demon. Last night, it called to my vampire, and I was powerless to stop it. I was never so helpless as I was last night.'

'But you and I, we've known each other for such a long time before all this started.'

'But we kept our distance all the same. I never actually ended up living with you. I always went back to my own place, where I was alone. When I began to crave company, I thought it was because I was lonely, I didn't realize that it was because my vampire wanted your demon so badly. Think about it, you never ever felt this way about me until I started hanging out more and more with you.'

'But surely we can find a way to control it? Surely we can find a way to stop them from growing anymore powerful?' He sounded so utterly lost and confused. I felt the same way, but it felt as though my mouth was moving of its own accord, saying things before I had even thought about them. I had no control over what I was saying. I remember feeling that my world was coming to an end; my life had always been somewhat controlled even if things went wrong. But during the past four months, this control had slowly been evaporating. At first, things were slowly but surely becoming worse. Now the pace had changed. I was running down a wild unbeaten path and a brick wall was fast approaching. I wanted to stop, but it kept coming closer and closer. Dante shook me at that point, snapping me out of my thoughts.

'Reiko?' He sounded worried and weary. I stared at him in bewilderment, having forgotten what had just been said. 'We _can_ find a way to stop our powers from growing anymore, right?' My memory came back at that point, and my mouth started doing that strange thing, moving and speaking without my permission.

'But you told me you had already searched. You told me already that that was the reason why you took so long in coming back. Because you were searching,' I whispered. The light went out of Dante's eyes.

'You're right. But that doesn't mean that you have to leave…'

'So what would you rather I do? Stay and lose my mind? Stay and have another failed suicide attempt to act as a blot on my soul? Stay and run the risk of losing control, killing you and Trish and never being able to regain my conscience? No…I can't allow it.'

'Reiko…'

'I killed you once and that felt awful. Imagine how I felt when I woke and regained myself to see your dead lifeless body lying in a pool of your own blood with my bite marks still fresh on your neck? It felt terrible. I felt evil and sick in the head. And even worse was living with the knowledge that I was a murderer. I have killed before but I had never killed a friend until that day. I don't want to go through it again!' I finished on a loud note, almost a yell. I heard Trish knocking at the door.

'Dante? Are you okay? I heard yelling!' I felt Dante's hand cover my mouth. It was warm and rough against my lips.

'I'm fine,' he replied, making his voice purposely strained. 'I just banged my toe against the wall.'

'Sure…' Trish sounded sceptical.

'It's always the small insignificant things that hurt the most. Like getting a paper cut. I'm fine.' I listened as Trish sighed and I heard her move away. Dante uncovered my mouth.

'That was a lie,' I heard myself say.

'Huh?'

'The smallest things do hurt, but never the most. The big things…'

'Death? In normal people, death doesn't hurt. They'll never be able to feel emotions. With humans, it's always those that are left behind who are the worst hit.' I was not quite sure what to reply to this statement. Even to this day, I can't find an argument. I can't ask him how he knows this, that the dead feel no pain once they are gone. We both know that it is nothing more than a theory. Dante seems to gain some strange comfort from this idea and after everything that has happened between us, I would not like to destroy it.

* * *

I have very little left to say, for there is not much more to tell after that. Dante constantly begged me to stay, saying that there was no need for such measures, that we could find an alternative way. But I would block out his plea and I would turn my mind to other thoughts. Trish also heard about my decision to move back to my own place but like Dante, she also knew that I meant to distance myself from the both of them. The look in her eyes was one of confusion, hurt and curiosity mingled together as one. I was surprised as well as relieved to see that there was no anger within those orbs.

Dante had claimed that he wouldn't touch me, that nothing more would happen between us but it was one more incident that made me certain that this would be the best action to take. Something _did_ happen between us, and it was to my shame and abject humiliation that it was I who instigated it.

My vampire had been lying formant for about a week, and I had been foolishly led to hope that maybe it was calming, that maybe Dante was right, that I wouldn't have to leave after all. Trish was out on a mission late at night, one that Dante had been forced to refuse feeling drained after an exhausting fight with a reincarnated demon that had been thought to have perished the night before.

Both of us were sitting in the lounge. Dante was sitting watching TV, while gingerly bandaging his more serious wounds. I had been reading a book, trying to ignore the smell of his blood that drifted in the air. And that was when the vampire rose. Before I was fully aware of what was going on, I had crossed over to him and was kneeling in front of him. He looked down at me with a faint surprise that quickly turned to suspicion.

'Reiko?' He asked cautiously. But I couldn't answer, I was being swamped by power and wrapped and cocooned in a spider's web of lust. I could see and hear and feel, but there was no control.

'No…' I heard myself whisper. Power raced through me, overflowing to the outside world. Dante's eyes widened and he gave a low surprised gasp as he felt my power reach out towards him. He tried to resist, but soon his cobalt blue eyes bled into crimson. I felt my lips smile of their own accord before my arms reached out and held Dante close. He smiled up at me, his red eyes glittering before he kissed me deeply. I felt a thrill fly through me, both pleasant and unpleasant. I did _not_ want to see this. I did _not_ even want this to happen. Yet the vampire chose to ignore me if it could feel my distress and they continued to kiss, vampire and demon.

Did they love each other? Did our two entities fall in love or lust? Or was it simply a plan between them to make us rapidly lose our minds? No matter what they're plan was, it was not long before I felt myself kissing his neck, hearing him moan, feeling him pull my body close to his own. Our breath mingled, his eyes watched me through hooded lids and soon I was lying back for him on the floor, pulling him with me, asking for more. He kissed me deeply before sucking tenderly at my neck, forcing a moan from my lips. He pulled off my top, paused to drink in the sight and then trailed his lips down my chest, past my naval…

They were taking it slowly, and I could feel an odd sort of tenderness that was emanating from both the vampire and the demon. They weren't hurried and animalistic like the last time, they were slow and languid, passionate and tender. They were talking in a language that was foreign to me, but the words were soft and gentle, almost like a constant purring. They curled up close to each other, nipping here kissing there, but each action was filled with a warmth that had not been here the last time. I could have gagged. What the hell was going on?

I was whimpering with pleasure, calling out in a tongue I did not recognise. At least, outside I was. Inside, where the real me was imprisoned, I was crying out with sorrow as pleasure, unwanted pleasure, washed over my senses again and again.

I felt a tear trickle down the side of my face, creating a lone glistening path. I was surprised. My vampire was crying? But they weren't meant to be able to cry… I struggled, trying to regain control of my body but I failed miserably. My body arched suddenly and I could hear my voice rising in a scream, though I didn't understand it, couldn't understand it. The pleasure momentarily blinded me, and I felt a heavy weight suddenly slump against me. Dante. I felt the vampire let go of me and I resurfaced. Dante had his head resting against my chest, his breath warm against my skin.

Though I was back in control, I automatically raised my arms and rested a hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair, which was surprisingly soft. I rested my other hand on his back and sighed. He lifted his head slowly and peered at me through his crimson glazed eyes. He blinked several times before shaking my hand away from his head and growling at me, as though sensing that I was back. He continued to snarl, his lips drawn back like a dog. I lay still beneath him and closed my eyes in submission, trying to show I would do him no harm. It didn't work, instead Dante, or rather, the demon muttered something under his breath before shaking me hard like a rag doll. I winced in pain as his nails turned to claws and pierced my shoulder. I cried out, tortured, and the demon gave vent to an anguished roar before dropping me and stalking off, leaving me quite alone.

I felt myself fall, and even when I hit the ground I continued to fall deeper into the recesses of my mind. I knew I was not unconscious, I was still able to think, but I was not fully in control. The vampire was back.

'What is it?' I called out. 'What do you want from me? Why do you wish to torture me like this?' There was no reply, but then a shadow darted past me and soon I was looking at a darker version of myself. Shadows danced at his feet, his fangs were more prominent and his eyes shone with a brilliant amber light. Red streaks adorned his hair, like living flames.

'What do you want from me?' I asked again. The vampire smiled, but to my surprise it was not filled with malice.

'Torture? That was never my intention.' I heard my own voice sound in my head. The vampire's lips never moved.

'How can you say that! Couldn't you feel my distress?'

'I was rather hoping you would be more co-operative when you felt the pleasure.'

'You _USED_ my body!'

'Look, I'm sorry, but I didn't have a choice. Just because you can't bring yourself to enjoy another's company, it doesn't mean that _I _can't!' The vampire replied sharply.

'What? What's that meant to mean?'

'I love him. Not Dante, but his demon.' I gaped at him. The smile had vanished. His face looked as though it had been carved out of stone, save for his eyes which stared at me piercingly.

'You can't though…' I said faintly.

'Why do you say that?' The vampire asked, his tone conversational.

'You're a vampire, you're not meant to be capable of it.'

'That's where you're wrong. I, the vampire, am more than capable. You're the one who is not capable of it. You push away everyone you come into contact with. Why? What is it that you are scared of?'

'I'm no-'

'Don't tell me that. That's rubbish. You're scared. You always have been. You're so filled with self-pity that you can't see what the world has to offer. I am the one who should feel self-pity. I am a prisoner inside your body, a personal slave, just like the Sparda's demon. Yet we can both see what the world has to offer us. Each other.'

'That's all well and good, but you're using my body, taking possession of us when it is unwanted.'

'Yet you call upon our powers with or without our consent. We have never complained. You use us when you need us, when you wish to defeat an enemy. We have made you stronger, we have made your senses keener. Now we simply want to share moments with each other sometimes. Is that so much to ask for? We never complain when you use us for your own ends. Now you complain when we wish to use you for our own ends. That's hardly fair, is it?' I was stumped for an answer. I stared at him speechlessly. He stared back unblinkingly, expectantly.

'I believe you see my point, don't you? Don't you? And the Sparda's entity agrees with me. It is time we reap our rewards for serving you.'

'Dante has told me that he has a personal link with his demon. Does Dante know about this?'

'His demon is as proud as his…master…He would never admit to such a thing. But I know he loves me, I can tell by the way he treats me. Surely you heard us talking?'

'I didn't understand it.'

'No…you only understand this coarse vulgar human language. But we both dream of a time when us two can be together, without your interference. You are the main problem. Dante is always fully repressed, as are any memories of what transpires between us. He is only able to put two and two together if he wakes beside you. Yes…you are the real problem, Reiko. But, despite this, I know that you are reasonable. Do not deny me this one pleasure.' His eyes were beseeching, yet he had kept his tone from sounding pleading. His eyes made me feel weak with the enormity of what he was asking. He wanted me to surrender his body to him whenever he wanted. His arguments were terrible. Terrible in the fact that it was all true. Dante and I, we had taken our strength for granted. But at the same time, the vampire had forced me into submission so many times before, and I had hated it. I could not bring myself to agree.

'No.'

'No?'

'No. I can't.'

'You disappoint me.'

'You want me dead. I nearly killed myself before because of your love. I nearly died.'

'But you didn't because of me.'

'I don't thank you for saving my life. So you can shut up.' The vampire frowned at me, his eyes narrowing. 'I can't let this continue. I can't let you kill me this way. I'd rather die in a fight than be beaten by my own internal self.' The vampire hissed before lunging at me but then dissolved into shadow as I opened my eyes at the feeling of being shaken. Dante. He was fully-dressed and was staring at me anxiously.

'You were muttering…'

'Dante…I have to leave…I have to go…' I gasped.

'……What!'

'Right now. The quicker the better.' I was fully awake, I was dashing around the room, packing my scanty belongings. Dante watched me in surprise, eyes wide, confused, mouth open. I looked at him quickly.

'Didn't your demon tell you? They're in love! My spirit and yours!' Dante reeled back as though I'd hit him. He blinked away the stunned look in his eyes before they turned blank. After a while he resurfaced.

'He denies it.'

'He would. He's just like you. Won't admit to anything,' I threw at him spitefully. 'I have to leave. You know I have to but you won't admit it.' Dante growled as I ended. His eyes flashed crimson and I readied myself. The demon rushed towards me and pinned me down on the ground before I even had time to make a move. He released a low long howl, and I felt my vampire stir within, eager to reply. I knew what was happening but I was filled with a wild anger, a steely determination. He would _not_ possess me. Not this time.

I struck up quickly with my staff, beating the demon about the head. Blood gushed out of his nose like a fountain. He reeled back momentarily before sinking his fangs into my shoulder and grabbing me in a bear hug. My arms were pinned to my sides, I could feel my ribs cracking under the pressure. The pain was intense, like white hot knives digging into me from all over. I screamed with agony, and I could feel myself being pulled under.

'No!' I roared out in defiance before landing a swift kick to the demon's stomach, winding him. I grabbed my staff from where I had dropped it and fled, forcing my legs to bear me away as fast as they could.

The demon did not pursue, and I assumed Dante had regained control. I didn't want to take any chances, so I continued to run. The vampires stirred slightly, and I suddenly heard my own voice sounding through my head in the form of a high keening sound. It made me sick to listen to the note of misery.

'Why? Why? What _haven't_ I done for you? I have saved your life many a time, I have been at your constant beck and call! I have given you my strength, my senses. You are a legend and a hero because of _me_!'

'I never asked for it! You and your stupid demon practically _raped_ me! I won't stand for it any longer! I won't! I can't!' I unlocked the door and fell into the hallway of my own house.

'I ask for one thing, one simple little thing! You will pay for this! You will! You will!' I screamed out in pain as my vampire started tearing at me from the inside. I fell to the ground, curled up in a ball, and all the time blood was oozing out of my mouth, trickling down my chin. I was choking, gasping, and even today I still am.

* * *

Running from Dante was one of the best things I have done, as well as one of the worst. Even now, pain washes over me, over and over again. I am dying, I am at my last breath. The vampire made a fatal error in his decision to kill me. In murdering me, his chances of ever reuniting with Dante's demon were also shot to shreds. The pain becomes even worse, and I know this is the end.

I close my eyes for the last time, savour this pain for the last time, the only knowledge that I am still alive, that I have been able to tell you my story.

Darkness begins to cloud my vision and I feel my body become light.

I am free.


End file.
